


Late Night Chat

by SusanaR



Series: "A Lucky Fall" AU of the Desperate Hours AU (D) [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 00:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/SusanaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Aragorn, it is strange to be back in the White City. But the friendship of Boromir makes it a little easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night Chat

**Author's Note:**

> This little snippet of a story is AU to everything. More specifically, it is AU to canon in that Boromir lives, and it is AU to my DH AU series, again in that Boromir lives.

It was strange, to be back in the White City again, after so long. Strange to go by his own name here, to be surrounded by his own family, here. To sleep in a dead King's chambers, with his beautiful Arwen beside him, instead of in a far-away guest chamber, alone. Aragorn shivered, again overcome by the sheer unfamiliarity of it all. He knew he wouldn't sleep easily again, not tonight.

Before, feeling this unsettled, he would have walked in the forest, or at least the gardens of his foster-father's home. Now, he sighed, as he got up and tied on a dressing gown - a dressing gown! And velvet, no less. Surely someone's idea of a joke...

As were the soft shoes by his bedside. Not fit for anything out-of-doors, that would be for certain. And his new valet's sighs, every time Aragorn took this useless footwear for a walk in the gardens.

So Aragorn headed reluctantly for his office, also a long-dead king's office more than it was Aragorn's. Denethor and his predecessors had kept it empty, like the King's House and the throne. A tribute to an absent King.

Who had returned, and wasn't really sure what to do with himself.

As he approached the hall containing the King's office, and the Steward's, and work-space for various other high-ranking officers, Aragorn was startled to hear laughter, and loud voices.

The noise, unsurprising, led to the Steward's office. Aragorn suppressed a smile, and opened the door without knocking. Surveying the destruction - overturned chairs, a mounted boar's head (previously on the wall, but now sitting on the Steward's desk), half the floor covered with paper and the Chief of Staff's desk vacant, and spilled wine over a good portion of the carpet. Oh, yes, and Boromir and his younger brother, leaning against an overturned settee, four or five mostly empty bottles of wine between them.

Boromir, the King noted, was wearing a velvet dressing gown. A wine red one, that didn't seem to show wine stains that badly. He was also sporting a welcoming grin.

Faramir, on the other hand, was still dressed in the gray hose and black embroidered tunic he'd been wearing at the afternoon's meeting. He looked almost nervous, so Aragorn refrained from giving him a censorious look for working so late. He didn't want to upset the young Captain.

"What are we celebrating?" Aragorn asked lightly.

Still grinning, this time proudly, Boromir explained with an affectionate, playful glance at his brother, "Faramir's a much better wrestler than he used to be."

Aragorn snorted, stifling a laugh. It was as good a reason as any to celebrate, especially for Faramir, whom Aragorn suspected would probably be sporting a hot backside for working so late again against his brother's wishes, if it weren't for Boromir's being so pleased that it had gotten so much more challenging to get a proper hold of his younger brother.

Because one of his patients' successful recoveries was always a good thing, and perhaps because he was also looking for a reason to celebrate, Aragorn took another bottle of wine from what had been Denethor's wine cabinet, and sat down on Faramir's other side. "Good for you, Faramir," he congratulated, clinking his bottle against the young Lord's in a toast.

Faramir's expressive gray eyes widened in surprise, before he smiled shyly. "Thank you, Sire."

"Drink, brother." Boromir commanded, kicking Faramir's foot gently, "You know he doesn't want to be called that by you, outside of council or court, and it's not too late for me to do something else with you."

Faramir obediently drank.

"Good. Now, you were just about to tell me how you and Dev really were cheating on your mathematics tests with Old Master Bitter Fossil, even though Adar was sure that you weren't, and thought that the old coot was just imagining things?" Boromir prompted.

Aragorn didn't bother to stifle a laugh at that one. When Faramir still looked nervous, Aragorn offered kindly, "I'm pretty sure that the statute of limitations is up on that one, Faramir."

Faramir chuckled, and began to answer, "Well, it wasn't really cheating, so much as sharing...we could forge one another's hand writing, by then, if you recall...and our tutor would turn his back...so we just switched tests, and then switched back."

Drinking wine and joining in the two brothers' camaraderie for the hour or so before Faramir fell asleep, Aragorn reflected on how very good Boromir was at making his new King feel at home. Even if Aragorn's new Steward was hopeless at paperwork without his little brother's help.


End file.
